


Our King

by WhyDontWeBegin



Series: Our King [3]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cuddles, Denial of Feelings, Emotions, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I torture these children, In Gil we trust, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Stabby Stabby, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, gil is best king, more like Cúnapping lol, not as much fluff as they deserve, playing with hair, shes also the center of Chaldea, yuki is a dork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 14:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14427588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDontWeBegin/pseuds/WhyDontWeBegin
Summary: No matter what, Gilgamesh will defend these people. They placed their faith and trust in him, and the King of Heroes has no intention to disappoint his people. His family.Not that he’d ever admit he considers them all such a thing aloud, that is—





	Our King

Gilgamesh let out a quiet hum, lounging on one of the couches in the break room, arm resting over his eyes. The silence was broken by the sound of voices and approaching footsteps. The conversation the two were having halted when they noticed him. 

“Archer?”

“Oh. It’s you, Goldie.”

Ah. Diarmuid and the Hound, from the sound of it. Gilgamesh scoffed, rolling his eyes even though they couldn’t be seen. “Is my presence here so unusual? I was simply taking a moment to relax.”

“Like hell I’ll—“

“Cú,” Diarmuid chided, raiding a brow. The bluenette huffed in response, crossing his arms and looking away from his fellow Lancer. “I apologize, Archer,” the Irishman said, turning his attention back to the Mesopotamian. Much to the surprise of the two, Gilgamesh only chuckled as he sat up and looked at them over his shoulder. 

“Don’t apologize for the nature of a mutt like him, zasshu,” the Archer replied, turning to sit properly before lounging with his legs crossed and arms over the back of the couch. His typical arrogant smirk was plastered on his lips as he took in the sight of the dumbfounded Lancers, though his amusement was interrupted rather abruptly. The three men found their attention drawn to the Servant who’d just darted into the room, either not noticing or ignoring the the raised brow or quizzical looks aimed in her direction. Instead she opted to dive behind another couch, raising further questions from the trio until the outraged cry of the woman’s name and sound of Yuki’s boots against the floor reached their ears. The blonde only glanced in the room as she passed, hardly noting the grimace on Cú’s face or the sigh passing Diarmuid’s lips as she dismissed it and continued on. Once the coast was deemed clear, Jeanne’s head popped over the top of the couch and she was immediately greeted with a sympathetic look from Cú.

“She’ll give up eventually, assuming you didn’t try to attack the newbie,” the blunette assured. Diarmuid and Gilgamesh both found themselves chuckling at the memory of the Hound running for dear life after making that fatal mistake. It had occurred with others, yes, but he’d been the only one she didn’t let go— aside from someone who was unaware at the time of her no-infighting policy. 

“I never realized how terrifying it is to be on the receving end of her wrath,” mumbled the Ruler with a shudder. 

“Neither did Cú— But then again, her next victim was Emiya for fighting back,” Diarmuid mused with a snicker. The Hound couldn’t help but grin at the memory. The suffering had been worth it, just for that. 

“It was rather satisfying to watch that faker be humiliated by a woman like her,” Gilgamesh hummed, at some point having brought forth a cup of wine for himself from his treasury. The other demigod in the room couldn’t help but share the sentiment, relishing in the fact that there was someone who could scare Emiya shitless. They were interrupted from their reminiscing when two more people joined them. 

“Oi, Ruler, what did you do and to whom?”

The four promptly turned their gazes to the other versions of Cú and the very Archer they’d been speaking of moments before, and Gilgamesh noted that it had been Prototype who’d spoken with a shit-eating grin. Before long Jeanne was the center of attention, the six expectant looks causing her to flush from embarrassment. Before the Frenchwoman could even open her mouth, however, the very reason for her mortification poked his head around the corner and blinked at the group before moving to stand in the doorway. Unsurprisingly, he became the one all looks were trained on (along with several glances to Emiya), but that did nothing to stop Jeanne’s face from turning a darker shade of red. Gilgamesh raised a brow, wondering just when the Guardian had duplicated. A moment later, the newcomer broke the silence with a calm, yet inquisitive tone. 

“Is that normal?”

“Is what normal? You looking like Emiya over there or Master running around like a madwoman and yelling after Ruler?” Retorted Caster with a skeptical look. 

“You do realize that neither of those are normal, right, Caster?”

“Not yet they aren’t, Diarmuid,” retorted the man with a shrug. 

“... Zasshu... do you plan to introduce yourself? Maybe explain why you look like the faker while you’re at it?” Gilgamesh said, turning the attention back to the priest (why else would he be wearing the attire of one?).

He didn’t get a chance to respond, interrupted by the mage who’d just jumped onto Prototype’s back (which really didn’t shock anyone aside from the newbie, seeing as she did stuff like that with several others). The Lancer braced her legs without complaint, not even blinking when she wrapped one arm around his neck in what was essentially a chokehold (just with less choking) and using her other arm to gesture as she spoke.

“His name is Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, Gilgamesh— and who knows why he looks like our resident cooking god? As for you, Jeanne. You owe him an apology,” the blonde said, not missing a beat between jumping onto Prototype’s back and addressing the situation. Whatever tension was in the room beforehand was absolutely shattered, amusement flooding the six who’d been around long enough to be used to such things. The priest, on the other hand, was staring at their Master like she was crazy— which wouldn’t be too far off the mark, in all likelihood. “The only reason I don’t have you in a headlock right now is because you’ve never done anythin’ like this before.”

Gilgamesh snorted at Yuki’s antics, staring into his wine before idly taking a sip. In times like these he usually just watched, considering how amusing things usually got when the blonde came around. Jeanne had relaxed visibly before apologizing to the other Ruler who, much to the amusement of all present, seemed rather overwhelmed. It was unsurprising, seeing as her eccentricness had left plenty speechless and helped her quickly befriend others. In a place like Chaleda, especially, she stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“So, onto another topic!” Yuki addressed with a clap of her hands and a grin. “We Rayshift tomorrow and Shi will be joining us.” No one was surprised she’d already come up with a nickname. It was one of her quirks— one which even Gilgamesh had come to appreciate. “Gil, do try and not scare him off, will you? And as for you two, Chulainn, Emiya— don’t kill each other or destroy the place while I’m gone,” she said— not that the two needed to be reminded, with the memory of her punishment forever engraved in their minds. Ignoring the shiver he got from the threat, the Lancer addressed another issue he found. 

“You’re leaving me behind again?!”

“I think Prototype and Caster are going to be hard enough to keep track of while I bring Shi up to date with everything,” the mage responded with a shrug. “You drew the short stick.”

“You always take Prototype!”

A shit-eating grin formed on Yuki’s face. “He lets me play with his hair.”

Chulainn did a double take, looking at the younger version of himself with wide eyes. The other Lancer only shrugged with a smirk, rousing a giggle from Yuki as she messed with his bangs. 

“If you must know, Caster does, too,” he informed. The entire room (aside from Shi, who was a mix between confused and amused at this point) snickered at the expression on the poor Hound’s face. 

“What?”

“You don’t mean to tell us you didn’t know she likes playing with people’s hair, zasshu,” Gilgamesh replied with a raised brow and a barely suppressed smirk. The King was rewarded with another laugh-inducing expression from the Irishman.

“She’ll play with almost anyone’s hair, given they allow her to,” noted Diarmuid with a chuckle. Emiya nodded, a grunt of agreement passing his lips. 

It yet took a few minutes of the blunette being completely unresponsive before Diarmuid and Jeanne began to worry over him, everyone else laughing aside from Amakusa. Amakusa just watched in a somewhat beweildered silence. 

 

—._.—

 

Gilgamesh found himself wandering the halls of Chaleda, half-looking for the ever-eccentric mage that was his Master. He’d asked several people he’d encountered in the past ten minutes, yet to no avail. The Archer paused, however, as he was passing the cafeteria, hearing laughter and smelling something that could only be Emiya’s handiwork. A turn to look in the room proved that Emiya was indeed cooking, and many others enjoying themselves. A quick once-over revealed all three Cús at the main table, laughing along with Diarmuid (who was sitting to Prototype’s left and across from their Master) and Dr. Roman (who was sitting to the mage’s right) at some joke Yuki probably cracked. It wasn’t even a full ten seconds before Jeanne and Marie joined in, Amakusa (Shi, he recalled) shaking his head with a faint smile playing on his lips. Gilgamesh was unsurprised to note Robin Hood sitting to Yuki’s left, Medusa on his other side. Vlad was next to an empty seat (which was on Roman’s other side, likely where Mashu would be) and saving a seat for Nero. Even Mozart and Siegfried joined in the laughter, adding to the warm atmosphere leaking from then room and beckoning to him. Before long Gilgamesh spotted Emiya and his faithful assistants (Mashu and Nero, the latter of which was praising the white-haired Archer for his skill— as though he needed his ego boosted any further) joined them, setting down the last of the food before joining them. Not more than a few minutes later the few stragglers, Servant and staff alike, found their way into the room, each and every one of them more than happy to partake of both Emiya’s cooking and the warm atmosphere. Not even moments later, Gilgamesh found himself joining them as well— some part of him idly mused that Yuki had a strange power to be able to pull this off, seeing as he was rather certain it wouldn’t be remotely possible to have Emiya and Chulainn sitting next to each other if circumstances were different. 

As Mashu half-scolded Roman, the latter looking like a kicked puppy, over something of little importance a smile played at the King’s lips, pupils wider than usual. It didn’t matter how long someone had been around Chaleda, he realized, watching as Yuki vigorously ruffled the latest addition’s hair (much to Shi’s chagrin and subsequent protesting).

“Ne, Gil, what’cha thinkin’ about?”

“Nothing of your concern, zasshu,” he threw at the mage without missing a beat, though the insult carried no weight. It hadn’t for some time now, really, so he was unsurprised when Yuki burst into a fit of giggles. At some point, as time dragged on, the blonde had managed to convince almost everyone to drink. It came as no surprise that several abstained (likely to avoid a hangover the next morning), including the culprit herself (simply because she refused to drink), from the activity along with both Rulers. 

Gilgamesh opted for his usual choice of drink, bringing it forth from his treasury and pouring himself a cup before letting the jug vanish while he watched the others. Soon enough, both Chulainn and Robin Hood were clearly wasted, while Caster, Prototype, Nero, and Diarmuid were only slightly flushed and any slurring was minimal. At some point the Lancer challenged Emiya to a drinking competition despite having gone far past the point of tipsy— it mayhap because of it. The Mesopotamian snorted when it ended with Emiya being completely and utterly drunk off his ass, and Nero soon joined them. Caster and Prototype ended up just as horrificly drunk within the next ten minutes, much to the amusement of everyone there. Diarmuid and Roman both were drunk at this point, but not completely trashed- which was fine, by his standards.

He’s not quite sure when it started, but Gilgamesh felt warm and fuzzy— some part of him registered he was probably tipsy, and he slowed his intake as a result. In that state, however, he couldn’t help but admire the skill his Master had. She could get along with almost anyone, and earn their respect to boot. Hell, she’d even earned his respect— it was thanks to her that anyone here who knew him before this trusted him now. Even if Yuki couldn’t fight to save herself, the King came to the realization that she’d die for the people in this room as he watched her laugh at the antics of the drunks at the table. His musings were interrupted when Diarmuid was all but shoved into Gilgamesh’s lap by the very same mage, a cheeky grin on her face. He’d barely saved his wine from spilling. 

“You looked a little lonely, sitting there and staring at your wine like it would tell you the secrets of the universe,” she said in response to the unasked question floating around Gilgamesh’s mind. The statement drew laughter from many in the room, and even more when the King’s glass vanished and he gracefully kept the flustered Knight from standing. 

“Well then, zasshu, entertain me,” the Archer retorted, a faint slur present. The blonde gave him a dramatic bow and mischievous grin, opening her mouth to reply when Roman pulled her into his lap, earning a surprised yelp. Gilgamesh chuckled at the sight of Yuki awkwardly attempting to comfort the drunk man who was now crying into her shoulder and holding her in a death grip over something Mashu said— that and the squirming and flustered Lancer in his lap, not that Gilgamesh would ever admit he found Diarmuid absolutely adorable at the moment. 

Some small part of him noted that this was where Yuki belonged, not on the battlefield.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus, it begins! 
> 
> Poor Yuki doesn’t know how to handle Roman xD


End file.
